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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22552627">Discarded Carapace</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins'>EvilMuffins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Heroes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Arranged Marriage, F/F, First Kiss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:36:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>828</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22552627</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Her armor, her blade, her younger sister- those had been the elements of Laegjarn's life that had needed tending to, not something so frivolous as her heart.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fjorm/Laegjarn (Fire Emblem)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Femflash February 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Discarded Carapace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serie11/gifts">Serie11</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>What's better than one gay princess? TWO of them.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Laegjarn was not accustomed to wearing white. Her bare shoulders ached with loneliness for want of her armor, and her reflection looked altogether foreign in the full-length mirror that had been provided in her room. Mirrors had been few and far-between back in her homeland of Muspell. Rather, an emphasis on personal appearance for anything other than the express motivation of intimidating the enemy was considered to be a grave weakness and punished accordingly.</p><p>Even so, Laegjarn had always assumed Laevatein to be the pretty one, and that was just as well, really. Laegjarn had always assumed that the inside of her chest would become intimately acquainted with the tip of a blade long before any romantic feelings had a chance to be kindled there. Any suitors parading through her father's palace had been muscle-bound warlords, and male at that.</p><p>Her armor, her blade, her younger sister- those had been the elements of Laegjarn's life that had needed tending to, not something so frivolous as her heart.</p><p>A knock came at her door, accompanied by a sweetly musical voice ringing through, “May I come in?”</p><p>Not waiting for an answer, Fjorm entered, and Laegjarn could see from the reflection approaching her that Fjorm had not yet donned her own gown, clad instead in a simple powder blue shift.</p><p>“What if I were still in the nude?” she asked the Fjorm approaching her in the mirror, bemused. So strange, that there could be two of them in the same place. Of course there were two entirely separate flesh-and-blood entities known as Prince Alfonse among the ranks of the Order of Heroes, not to mention the people whose doppelgangers numbered even higher. One noble woman by the name of Camilla seemed to get on famously with her doubles, often hosting tea parties with the lot of them alongside their various siblings.</p><p>Laegjarn couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there were a world where she had Fjorm had remained enemies, a world where one or both of them had perished.</p><p>Fjorm giggled, obscuring her lips with a hand, and Laegjarn wished that she wouldn't hide something so pretty. There had been so little laughter back in Muspell that Laegjarn now wished to subsist on every giggle or laugh to fall from Fjorm's lips, piling them up high into a sugary tower much like the tiered white cake that would soon be made for them in the kitchens.</p><p>“Then I would respectfully shield my eyes,” Fjorm answered coyly. “Although I couldn't be held responsible for any gaps that should arise between my fingers. Hrid always did tease me about how spindly they are.”</p><p>If only the outfit had included a veil, Laegjarn lamented, Fjorm wouldn't have been able to see the flush currently warming her cheeks.</p><p>“Are you certain that you wish to go through with this?” Laegjarn said suddenly, the words that had lay beneath the depths of her thoughts all morning finally bubbling to the surface as she turned to look Fjorm in the eye. <em>Gods</em>, how could eyes the very color of ice be so warm in their gaze?</p><p>“Whatever gave you the idea that I didn't?” Fjorm replied patiently. Always so terribly patient, even when Laegjarn misunderstood the customs of Askr or Nifl, or the times in which words saw fit to evade her, such as whenever she was left alone with Fjorm for more than a moment.</p><p>“Because,” Laegjarn's shoulders slumped, one sleeve of the elegant gown slipping out of place. Her bones felt limp and vulnerable without the protection of her pauldrons. “That Summoner person, they arranged this on our behalf. Does that not bother you?”</p><p>“Should it?” Fjorm replied mildly, gaze holding firm.</p><p>It wasn't as if Laegjarn hadn't been long accustomed to decisions being made on her behalf, but she had come to acquire something of a taste for freedom during her time with the Order. She hesitated, eyes searching the far wall for an answer. “I... I must admit that I am not certain.”</p><p>“I was surprised, at first,” Fjorm admitted, clasping one of Laegjarn's calloused hands between her own, dainty yet every bit as battle-worn, “And a little nervous, too. But the more time that I spent with you, Laegjarn, I soon became overjoyed, certain in the fact that Kiran had made the correct choice. I think they knew long before our stubborn hearts ever did.”</p><p>“Then I will trust in you, and Kiran, and my own heart as well.” Laegjarn gave Fjorm's hand a squeeze, before drawing her in close. Lips ghosted together, uncertain at first, before a second attempt achieved a fire in Laegjarn's heart the likes of which even the realm of Muspell had never before seen.</p><p>And as Fjorm's free hand came to rest on the small of Laegjarn's back, suddenly she found herself thankful for the gown's open back, allowing such a gentle touch to light upon her skin for the first time in so very long.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Following the S support=Marriage convention from the mainline games~</p></blockquote></div></div>
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